


Black and White

by AndInThoseMoments



Series: Trust and Teamwork [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Assets & Handlers, BAMF Natasha, Gen, Protective Phil Coulson, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 23:38:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndInThoseMoments/pseuds/AndInThoseMoments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson realises a few vital things about working with Agent Romanoff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black and White

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Shadowhaloedangel for proofreading.  
> For the prompt Black and White

Coulson stared down at the files before him in disgust. He was stunned by how very difficult it was for him to have two agents. Natasha and Clint managed to generate more paperwork between them than most other teams of six or seven did.

He glanced down at the latest one, picking it up and reading over it again. Natasha was a problem, he couldn't deny it. She was a good agent, but at the same time she didn't stick to what agents were meant to do. SHIELD had certain expectations and Coulson had initially expected Natasha to have at least some understanding of what they would be. It had been a foolish mistake for him to make, and he was suffering for it now.

Natasha might have been a remarkably intelligent young woman, but she couldn't behave according to regulations and expectations if she didn't know them. So even things that he thought should have been simple, common sense, apparently weren't if you had no chance to get used to how SHIELD worked. 

Their very first mission together, Natasha had turned off her comm when the whole thing had gone to hell. She'd gone to try and rescue Clint without backup, leaving Phil with no contact and waiting to see if either of his agents had survived. After he had spoken to her, she stopped doing that, but there were always new things for him to try and teach her. No matter which rules he explained to her, she'd find exceptions.

The worst thing was, Coulson knew she wasn't trying to be difficult. She simply didn't think the way SHIELD expected her to. In a way it was an advantage, but right now... Coulson groaned and rubbed his forehead again, putting the papers aside. They could wait. He could deal with them later. For now, he'd just check where his agents were, and make sure that they were alright. 

He looked through the camera feeds until he found them. Clint was at the range, a pile of arrows stacked in his quiver. Even at this distance, Coulson could see how calmed he was by it, how every shot was taking tension away from him. There was a faint smile on his face, and his pose was relaxed. Each arrow hit the dead centre of the target he was aiming at.

Coulson would go and see him later, to monitor his progress up close. At least, that was the official line. The truth was that Coulson was only human, and he liked being able to watch Clint at work. He was utterly gorgeous when he was doing what he did best and Phil admired him greatly.

First though, he wanted to track down Natasha. Knowing that she wasn't finding yet another way of breaking the Geneva Convention would help to put his mind at rest.

She was in the boxing ring, facing one of the other agents. Harson, one that Coulson knew could be a bit of a problem - he tended to make inappropriate comments to the female agents, and had got into trouble for making some of the Junies feel uncomfortable. Still, he'd learned that Natasha was more than capable of taking care of herself, and that she would be more than strong enough to beat Harson in a fight.

He settled back to watch the match, seeing the way they exchanged blows, Natasha ducking out of the way with a confident smirk on her face. She swept the agent's legs from beneath him, sending him crashing down onto the mats with a thud that Coulson could imagine, even if the cameras didn't carry sound. Coulson turned his attention back to Clint for a moment, then glanced down at the paperwork. He supposed that he should probably be amused that a lot of the other handlers had already signed up to say that they had no interest in working with Romanoff, but it worried him.

She hadn't even had a real chance to prove herself yet. Yes, the first active mission that she'd been on had been a total disaster, but she'd returned with all the information and having brought the team home safe, so he couldn't really complain. He’d been on other missions that had gone far worse. Since then the main problems he had had were either because of knowledge she couldn't have been expected to have, or with her attitude, and it wasn't like the rest of the agents all had lovely personalities. He'd try and recommend her to a few of the other handlers, so that if he was out of action temporarily or permanently, they wouldn't have to remove her from the field.

He glanced back at the screen where she had been, and frowned, trying to work out where she'd gone. The room looked deserted, but both her and Harson were still swiped in. 

He swapped to a second camera, and got to his feet, still watching the screen.  
Natasha had the other agent on the ground, her weight on top of him and her hands pressing at his throat - not enough to choke, but close to it. Her lips were drawn back in a furious snarl, and she had him pinned.

Coulson ran to the gym. It was not far from where he was, and he was able to be there within less than thirty seconds. He swiped open the door, and ran straight over to them, placing his hand on Natasha's shoulder.  
"Stand down Romanoff."

She relaxed instantly, moving away and standing it ease. Harson glared at her, rubbing his throat and backing away.   
"She's a lunatic." He muttered. "Whatever they've told you about deprogramming her, they've not done it well enough."  
Natasha didn't answer back, just stood there with her eyes cold, boring into Hanson's soul. Coulson hesitated, looking between them.  
"Are you injured?" He asked Hanson.  
"No. Just sore." Hanson admitted.   
"Come to my office tomorrow morning, and we'll talk about this. Go and shower. You too Romanoff, but I'll see you when you’ve dressed."

She nodded, walking away to shower. Coulson waited by the door in case the fight kicked off again, fighting away another headache and wondering why his agents were so difficult to look after at times. He heard footsteps, and turned to face her returning once she had pulled back on some more of her casual clothes - a white t-shirt and grey tracksuit bottoms. Coulson had noticed that aside from for missions, she had a preference for comfortable clothes she could move in. He supposed that made sense.

"Romanoff, we need to speak about your behaviour today. My office."   
"Yes sir." She followed him to the room, and while he took a seat she stood awkwardly, until with a shake of the head he signalled for her to sit opposite him.  
"Do you want to tell me what provoked that?" He asked. It was a neutral opening, and gave her the opportunity to tell her side of the events without feeling accused.  
"I don't see what relevance it has to my actions sir." She answered, and Coulson took a deep breath. This was going to be a long discussion.

"It is relevant Agent Romanoff, because if I know why you chose to follow a particular course of action, I will be able to judge whether or not you had reason for it."  
"You found me nearly strangling him." She muttered, gazing blankly ahead, sat perfectly at attention again.

"I did. And I am asking why?"  
"And you honestly care?" She asked, with the same note of amused disdain that she would use for a suggestion that it would be safer for her to wear her seatbelt when they were in the car. 

"I am asking. You are my agent Romanoff, I feel that I at least deserve your honesty, if not your trust."  
She hesitated, regarding him curiously. He could see her calculating, working out what would and wouldn't be believed, what answer she could give that wouldn't result in her finding herself in more trouble. After a couple of moments, she answered.

"He told me that everyone was just waiting for me to slip. That they knew what I was, and that you were a fool for trusting me." She answered coldly. "When I got angry, he said that the rest of the agents knew I was nothing more than some Soviet whore, and that people were saying you had gone soft. Or that..." Her voice trailed a way for a moment. 

Phil was sure that her hesitance was an act in an attempt to make him sympathetic towards her, but it was working. He watched as she collected herself, unable to tell if it was genuine or simply that she was a far better actor than even he gave her credit for.  
"Or that you were only helping me because I was giving you favours, doing things to persuade you to trust me."

Coulson might not have known every moment of her past, but it was clear enough why a comment like that might have been distressing for a female agent who had had to battle to be taken seriously.  
"We both know that isn't true Agent Romanoff. I meant it when I said that wasn't my role. And I've seen your work. I trust you, and I don't ask for anything in exchange for that trust."

"I know."  
"So ignore him. I can't afford for you to keep flying off at idiots like that." He explained, and then he allowed himself a small smile. "Having said that, Romanoff, I'm impressed. You stood up for yourself, and tempting though it might have been, you decided not to kill him."

"Thank you sir." Natasha answered. "Am I in trouble?"  
"No." Coulson shook his head. "There will be recordings from the gym - there are several cameras. I'll see what was said. If it matches your report, then you won't be in trouble, but Agent Hanson will be. From what I've heard, your response was entirely proportionate."

Coulson was fairly certain that Natasha wasn't faking her relief the following moment. He smiled at her, deciding to seize the opportunity he had been presented with.  
"Romanoff. I'm your handler. I don't know what that has meant to you in the past, but to me now it means that it is my role to support you, to help you. Having said that, I am only going to be able to do it if you tell me when things go wrong. Anyone else talks to you like that, and you tell me, you understand?"

Natasha nodded, and Coulson wondered if she was even considering doing what he was asking for. Still, there was one other thing that he could talk about which had been bothering him for the last few weeks.  
"Thank you. Can you tell me why on your very first mission you decided to turn your comm off when you went back to rescue Clint? I thought that I'd lost both of you."

"...Rescuing Agent Barton wasn't within the requirements of the mission." Natasha answered, looking at him with the faintest frown visible on her forehead.   
"No." Coulson hesitated, trying to follow her thoughts. "But the parameters of the mission changed when he got captured."  
"They did?" Natasha asked, tilting her head slightly, and something clicked into place in Coulson's brain.

She had been afraid that if she left the comm on, he would have ordered her not to try to save Clint, and she hadn’t wanted to disobey him. If she didn’t hear him telling her not to, in Natasha-Logic that meant he hadn’t told her to, so she could do it without breaking orders. He was reminded of the story of Nelson holding a telescope to his blind eye in order to avoid an order to surrender. He shook his head slightly, but he couldn't hold back a fond smile at the thought of it.

"We're not going to leave you behind Romanoff. I'm your handler, and I do everything I can to return with the same number of agents that I went out with. Or even, as Barton proved when we found you, with more agents than I went out with. If sudden rescue missions come up, then I'll help you. Just don't cut me out again, and maybe one day you'll even see me trying to sneak back into the field to help you."

She smiled a little at that.  
"Is that all sir?"  
"Yes..." Coulson nodded, and he watched her walking away, trying to work out how to fit Natasha's logic with his own. He missed when life had been simple.

There was a knock on his door, and Clint stuck his head round the frame. Coulson waved him inside. Maybe life being simple hadn't been as good as he remembered it being.


End file.
